


The Cookie Cutter Fic

by ChangeableConsistency



Series: Lean into the Discomfort [2]
Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Begging, Cookie Cutter Fic, Cookies, Dirty Talk, I fail at fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-04
Updated: 2012-02-04
Packaged: 2017-10-30 14:24:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/332719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChangeableConsistency/pseuds/ChangeableConsistency
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I really intended to write FluffyKitchenFuntime.</p><p>I begged and pleaded with them to be lighthearted and just make some damned snicker-doodles, but would they listen to me?</p><p>Like most things I touch it turned into angst and smut.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hope Can Mend Your Life

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Cookie Cutter Fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/331441) by [Coshledak](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coshledak/pseuds/Coshledak), [furius](https://archiveofourown.org/users/furius/pseuds/furius), [Subtilior](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Subtilior/pseuds/Subtilior), [tahariel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tahariel/pseuds/tahariel), [Takmarierah](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Takmarierah/pseuds/Takmarierah), [verilyvexed](https://archiveofourown.org/users/verilyvexed/pseuds/verilyvexed). 



> My tenses and I are in desperate need of a beta. Sometimes it's hard being a time traveling ninja.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a castaway  
> An island lost at sea  
> Another lonely day  
> With no one here but me  
> More loneliness  
> Than any man could bear  
> Rescue me before I fall into despair  
> (Sting, Message in a Bottle)

"What are you doing?"

Erik started guiltily and turned from the counter, absently wiping his forehead with the back of his wrist. This had the unfortunate side effect of smudging flour over his left brow.

"I was hungry," he shrugged defensively.

"And so you decided to destroy my kitchen?" Charles said with an amused twist to his lips. Dirty bowls and every measuring cup he owned scattered the counter top; flour and sugar dusting all the available surfaces.

"You were taking too long." 

Of course Erik would deflect it back on him. Charles didn't want to push the issue; the fact that Erik had volunteered to stay in while he had gone out to pick up something for them to eat, extending what had been a late afternoon booty call into an all nighter, had been treat enough. But this? This made him warm in a way he never thought he would get from Erik and he swallowed as Erik continued to glare at him, the warmth manifesting as a blush traveling up his neck to his cheeks and making his eyes twinkle.

Erik hadn't realized how comfortable he had let himself get with Charles, surprised that the other man had been able to get so close to him without his notice as he mixed the cookie batter. 

He had been lost in "what if's".

_What if this thing between them was really going somewhere?_

_What if it could last?_

_What if he stayed through the morning?_

In all their time together he had never watched Charles wake up after a well fucked rest, eyes bleary with sleep and lust. He wanted that. He just wasn't sure he could survive having it. Everything dies, nothing lasts; and while he would hold onto this thing they had for as long as he was blessed with it, he could only let himself sink into it so far. As it was when Charles finally decides he's had enough and walks away it may kill him. He keeps the fantasies of a future in his head, knowing they'll never amount to anything, wrapping himself up in an iron cocoon of barely leashed violence and pain.

But some part of him _needed_ more than it hurt. 

And so, cookies. 

Anyway, he _was_ hungry, and Charles had all the ingredients for Oma's zimtplätzchen and was bound to be gone for more than enough time to bake the cookies and clean up. He had been going to tell Charles that he had just dashed down to the corner store and picked them up. He hadn't accounted for losing time to wool gathering, and hadn't realized how much longer it would take to make them on his own from half forgotten memories of another life.

"What?" Erik asked darkly, arms crossing over the ridiculously frilly apron he had on over his low slung jeans. He had forgone putting back on his black turtleneck, partially to protect it from his culinary efforts and partially because he didn't want anything in the way of his fingers as he pressed them against the bites and bruises at his throat and collarbones. 

Charles crowded him to the counter; licking, then biting his plump lips. 

"Nothing," he smiled, "you just have a bit of," Charles reached up and brushed away the flour dusting Erik's brow and then he was wrapped around Erik, pulling his head down with a sharp tug of his hair, his left arm slipping under Erik's right, hand splaying across the warm and narrow back. Charles kissed him hungrily, dipping his hand down under waistband and apron strings to cup the bare flesh of Erik's ass. Realizing Erik was only wearing jeans and an apron rushed the blood even faster to his hardening cock. He groaned and pulled Erik closer; so very thrilled to feel an answering response in the taller man. He licked his way out of Erik's mouth, across the stubble of his jawline to nibble his perfect earlobe, breath hot and heavy in his ear.

"Please."

Erik's bare toes clinched at the linoleum as his fingers dug into the soft blue cardigan at Charles shoulders, pressing into the flesh beneath that bore his marks.

"Please," Charles begged, his hand at Erik's hair gentle now, thumb stroking the side of his neck.

The word twisted around Erik's spine and he tilted his head back, baring his throat and growling softly. One hand still at Charles' shoulder, the other grabbing silky brown locks to drag willing lips and teeth to corded tendon and muscle.

"Bite," he rasped and Charles, always eager to obey, began biting up and down the length of Erik's neck and throat, savoring the resistance of his hair pulling against those long, beautiful fingers; whimpering at the occasional tug as Erik forced his mouth to the spots that gave him the most pleasure.

"Tell me-" he broke off with a moan, thrusting his aching cock against his lover's, "Tell me what you want."

"Anything, everything, God, please? Please! I'm still slick from earlier. So ready for you. Your mouth. Your cock. Please?," he panted, "Please, I need you."

Erik growled again as his control slipped, picked up Charles' legs to wrap around his waist as he turned them, lifting him to the counter; cinnamon and cookie cutters clattering to the floor.

"Oh! Yes, please!" Charles leaned back on his hands and spread his legs in offering. 

Erik ran his hands up under the button down and sweater, pulling it up over his head and throwing it to the side. He grinned at the dazed look in the blue eyes he loved so much, hair on end with static, mouth bruised and skin flushed. He pressed fingertips into the bite marks along each shoulder, down to delicate wrists, placing the hands back on the counter behind Charles.

"Stay."

Charles had a mouth made for begging and the more Erik kept him talking the less likely he was to let words of his own slip; words he never planned on saying. _Mine. Need. Have. Want. Take._

"More, pretty baby, you know what I want." He worked off the rest of Charles clothing to a litany of smut.

"Please, I need you in me, your fingers, your tongue... Your cock, warm and deep and hard. Please fill me, I want your cum, on my skin, down my throat, up my ass so I can feel you for days and days."

Gott, that mouth was going to kill him. He spread Charles legs wide and bent down to swallow his dripping cock. 

"Plea-" Charles bit off his words with a long moan as Erik's hot mouth took him deep, tongue working the shaft, one hand gripping his hip, the other playing with his balls.

Erik pulled off with a slurp.

"You stop," he said, slathering the glistening crown with a wet lick, "I stop."

"Oh God, Oh Erik, please don't stop, please suck my cock, PLEASE?" Erik relented, wrapping his lips around the pulsing member, gently squeezing and rubbing his balls in time with the sucking and licking.

"Yes! Yes, please; I love it, I need it. Fuck me, please, take my mouth, fuck my ass. I cum so hard jerking off when my ass is sore from the way you ride me. Take me, stretch me. Use all my holes, all of me. Hard. You fuck me so hard. Please, please fuck, please? So close." Charles moaned, tilted his head against the wall, pressing his hands into the counter top, his pale bare chest stretched out like a pagan offering.

Erik can barely breath, choking on Charles words as he swallows, pulling him deeper and deeper until his nose is buried in dark curls. He rests like that as long as he can, letting Charles come back from the edge. 

Charles sighed and whispered, "I. I want it so much. Please? Erik, please?"

Eric swallowed around him, then pulled back with the barest hint of teeth to place soft kisses up the top and back down the underside of his shaft before suckling his balls one at a time.

"You ready, baby?" At Charles' frantic nod Erik pulled him off the counter, more utensils spilling to the floor, forgotten. He positioned Charles, pressing shoulders and cheek to the counter as he unbuttoned his jeans. "Stay just like that for me and play with your nipples."

He stepped back to take in the sight of Charles bent over for him, fingers twisting and pinching his nipples, cock red and dripping. His ass was dusted with sugar and flour, and Eric slapped it once, smiling at the hand print it left behind.

The playful swat set Charles off like a rocket, "Now, now, now, fuck me use me, wreck me I need you, I can't I, Erik, Erik, PLEASEPLEASEPLEASE."

And Erik's iron control was gone like it had never existed. He spread Charles pale, round globes, grateful to find that he hadn't been exaggerating, his bright pink hole leaking warm lube and cum. There was almost no resistance as he slide home, just the slightest grip as Charles tightened around him with pleasure.

"YES, need you want you, fuck please. Oh FUCK, fuck." Erik knew just how to angle, how to thrust, how to wrangle every last drop of everything he was from him; leaving him incoherent and throbbing. He held on to his nipples like a lifeline, shoulders and face rubbing against the counter, flour tangling the sweat soaked hair at his temples. All he was capable if now was chanting the same three words, "Fuck, fuck, fuck, please, fuck! Erik, fuck, please?" 

Erik obliged, layering new bruises over old, squeezing his hips and fucking like a machine, like it was a mission, as though it was the only thing keeping him alive. He thought, _Maybe it is?_

"Erik, Erik, Erik," pleading, only one word left, a mantra, a blessing, a benediction. And Erik was lost. 

"Come with me!" he snarled, his left hand wrapping around Charles cock, the other pulling him back by his hair for a brutal kiss. He closed his eyes as his vision blurred, spilling into his love, connecting them at the most elemental level, joining them together as Charles spilled over his hand.

...

Charles leaned over the counter on his elbows, panting; Erik drapped over his back, still inside him. As he recovered he wished he could stay like this forever.

"I'm sorry," he whispered in Charles ear, licking the shell as Charles shivered, "for destroying your kitchen."

 _But your destroying me,_ he thought. 

At the moment he couldn't be anything but happy about it.


	2. Hope Can Break Your Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charles insisted he get to tell his side of the story.
> 
> My heart, it is broken. I need to go look at kittens.

Takeout bags in hand Charles opened his front door carefully, not wanting the drop anything. He was nearly an hour earlier than he had told Erik; there had been almost no traffic and the delicatessen was almost empty when he had arrived. The store had started to fill up while he placed his order and he was out and on his way in record time. 

He had been hoping to surprise Erik in the shower, but his jaw dropped when he saw what was waiting for him in the kitchen as he went to put the sandwiches in the fridge.

He froze in the doorway, watching as Erik hummed a hauntingly sweet tune and... Was he dancing!?

"What are you doing?", Charles burst out, unable to help himself.

Erik started guiltily and turned from the counter, absently wiping his forehead with the back of his wrist. This had the delightful side effect of smudging flour over his left brow.

"I was hungry," he shrugged defensively.

"And so you decided to destroy my kitchen?" Charles said. _Don't laugh, what ever you do, do NOT laugh._ He was wearing _Raven's_ apron.

Erik must have emptied the entire baking cupboard across every flat surface in the room. Christmas and Valentine's Day cookie cutters were jumbled in a pile with a couple whisks, all stacked haphazardly on top of a couple muffin tins. Every bowl he owned was out, each with dough in a different stage, from completely liquid to a lump with a spoon sticking straight up. 

"You were taking too long." 

He had never seen Erik as relaxed as he had been before his stupid mouth overrode his stunned brain. He wishes he could have watched for a bit longer. Imagines what it would have been like to be there when Erik (apparently) sifted flour over every counter top; his lips twitching involuntarily as he pictured them making flour angels on the floor.

Erik continued to glare at him, watching as a blush traveling up his neck to his cheeks, Charles eyes watered slightly as he focused back on the harsh reality that such domestic bliss would never be what he and Erik were about.

"What?" Erik asked darkly, arms crossing, drawing Charles eyes to the love bites decorating Erik's skin above the white ruffled lace at the top of the apron; a bolt of lust shooting to his groin. His heart sped up and he slowly moved into Erik's personal space. He never new what would set his... Not boyfriend. His... His Erik off. Charles wanted him so much he could taste it as he licked his lips.

"Nothing," he smiled, "you just have a bit of," Charles reached up and brushed away the flour dusting Erik's brow and then he was wrapped around Erik, pulling his head down with a sharp tug of his hair, his left arm slipping under Erik's right, hand splaying across the warm and narrow back. Charles kissed him hungrily, dipping his hand down under waistband and apron strings to cup the bare flesh of Erik's ass. Realizing Erik was only wearing jeans and an apron rushed the blood even faster to his hardening cock. He groaned and pulled Erik closer; so very thrilled to feel an answering response in the taller man. He licked his way out of Erik's mouth, across the stubble of his jawline to nibble his perfect earlobe, breath hot and heavy in his ear.

"Please," he said. He never got anything without asking; but everything he had ever been able to ask for, Erik gave him. Eventually. He knew he would never get the thing he wanted most. The words shouldn't be important but they were, and they were the one thing he could never bring himself to beg for. 

Erik's his fingers dug into the soft blue cardigan at Charles shoulders, pressing into the flesh beneath that bore his marks.

"Please," Charles begged, his hand at Erik's hair gentle now, thumb stroking the side of his neck. He couldn't make himself say, _"Please say you love me."_ But he thought it every time he said the word _"Please"_.

Erik's fingers dug into the bite on his shoulder from that afternoon and he grabbed Charles by the hair bringing his mouth to Erik's throat.

"Bite," he rasped and Charles, finding it impossible to refuse Erik anything, began biting up and down the long line of Erik's neck, sucking at his pulse and falling into the feel of Erik holding him in any way. Tugging against the hand holding him, directing him; in order to feel it all the more.

"Tell me," Erik paused to moan, dragging Charles anticipation out cruelly as he thrust against Charles's hardness, "Tell me what you want."

He folded like the slut Erik made him, "Anything, everything, God, please? _(love me)_ Please! _(say you love me)_ I'm still slick from earlier. So ready for you. Your mouth. Your cock. Please?," he panted, "Please, I _(love)_ need you."

Erik growled as he pulled Charles legs around him, turning and sweeping the counter off before setting him on the edge; cinnamon and cookie cutters clattering to the floor.

"Oh! Yes, please! _(yours)_ " Charles leaned back on his hands and spread his legs in offering.

Erik ran his hands up under his layered shirt and cardigan, pulling it up over his head and throwing it to the side. He pressed fingertips into the bite marks along each shoulder, grabbing each wrist, and forcing his hands behind his back before pressing them to the counter.

"Stay." The look in Erik's eyes froze him, all he saw was lust, hunger; neither of which where what he wanted most. Later, in the secret recesses of his mind he would pretend that Erik had meant, "Stay with me," instead of "Stay put".

"More, pretty baby, you know what I want," rubbing Charles lower lip, pulling away before Charles was able to lick or suck his thumb, Erik started to unbutton his pants, undressing him. He should look ridiculous, frilly white apron and bare chest, eyes fathomless pits; but he didn't. He looked like everything Charles would ever want. Ever need. Charles eased his weight back on to his hands, feeling even more trapped.

"Please, I need you in me, your fingers, your tongue... Your cock, warm and deep and hard. Please fill me, I want your cum, on my skin, down my throat, up my ass so I can feel you for days and days." 

Erik spread his legs wide and bent down to swallow his dripping cock.

"Plea-" Charles bit off his words with a long moan as Erik's hot mouth took him deep, tongue working the shaft, one hand gripping his hip, the other playing with his balls. God, he couldn't keep this up, not without revealing more than he wanted.

Erik pulled off with a slurp.

"You stop," he said, slathering the glistening crown with a wet lick, "I stop."

Charles squeezed his eyes shut. This was unbearable, any moment he was going to blurt out something stupid, something he couldn't take back or blame on the afterglow. He focused on the sex. It was just sex to Erik, that was all he could let it be for himself, "Oh God, Oh Erik, please don't stop, please suck my cock, PLEASE?" 

Erik relented, wrapping his lips around the pulsing member, gently squeezing and rubbing his balls in time with the sucking and licking.

"Yes! Yes, please; I love it, I need it. Fuck me, please, take my mouth, fuck my ass. I cum so hard jerking off when my ass is sore from the way you ride me. Take me, stretch me. Use all my holes, all of me. Hard. You fuck me so hard. Please, please fuck, please? So close." Charles moaned, tilted his head against the wall, pressing his hands into the counter top, his pale bare chest stretched out like a pagan offering. He needed to breathe, some space; this was killing him. Why did it just have to be sex for Erik, they could still have this and have love. Tears leaked from the corner of his eyes.

He has a moment to catch his breath as Erik deep throats him, briefly gagging, but otherwise calm and quiet as clockwork; either not noticing or (more likely) not caring that Charles is about to shatter. Erik stays down for a while and it is impressive, but Charles is well aware of how long Erik can hold his breath, and in much more stressful situations than giving his fuck buddy a blow job.

Charles sighed and whispered, "I. I wa,nt it so much. Please? Erik, please?"

Eric swallowed around him, then pulled back with the barest hint of teeth to brush his lips up and down his cock, sucking lightly or licking a little before sucking on his balls one at a time.

"You ready, baby?" _God, yes._ He didn't even have words for how ready, only able to nod. At Charles' frantic nod Erik pulled him off the counter, more utensils spilling to the floor, forgotten. He positioned Charles, pressing shoulders and cheek to the counter as he unbuttoned his jeans. "Stay just like that for me and play with your nipples."

Charles rested his head and shoulders against the counter, breathing slowly through his nose and mouth. He was never going to be able to smell cinnamon again without feeling a little heartache. He slowing started rubbing his nipples, hard beneath his fingers; twisting and pinching them as he felt Erik watching him.

Suddenly Erik slapped his ass and he broke, he needed Erik inside him, "Now, now, now, fuck me use me, wreck me I need you, I can't I, Erik, Erik, PLEASEPLEASEPLEASE."

Erik let him beg, spreading him open wide, exposing his sore hole to the air, leaving him open and needing for a beat before nudging the tip of his cock into Charles' well lubricated entrance. There was almost no resistance as Erik filled him and he squeezed around the heat and pleasure; he had no leverage from this position, he wanted to fuck himself back on Erik's cock, pull them together so tightly they could never be parted. He could feel the apron at the small of his back, the roughness of Erik's jeans pressing up against the back of his legs. God, he was naked in his kitchen, covered in flour and getting fucked like an animal. And he loved every shameful second of it, "YES, need you want you, fuck please. Oh FUCK, fuck." 

Erik knew just how to angle, how to thrust, how to wrangle every last drop of everything he was from Charles; leaving him incoherent and throbbing. He held on to his nipples like a lifeline, shoulders and face rubbing against the counter, flour tangling the tear soaked hair at his temples. All he was capable if now was chanting the same three words, "Fuck, fuck, fuck, please, fuck! Erik, fuck, please?"

Erik obliged, layering new bruises over old, squeezing his hips and fucking him mechanically, as though it was just another item on his to do list. Plan world domination? Check. Bake cookies? Check. Fuck Charles senseless? Check and Check.

"Erik, Erik, Erik," pleading, needing a reaction to know he wasn't just an object, a slut; someone to use and walk away from.

"Come with me!" Erik snarled, his left hand wrapping around Charles cock, the other pulling him back by his hair for a brutal kiss. Tears fell freely from Charles eyes, and he choked back a sob as he feel Erik's seed begin to feel him, his own coating Erik's hand and dripping to the kitchen floor.

...

Charles leaned over the counter on his elbows, panting; Erik draped over his back, still inside him. As he recovered he wished he could stay like this forever.

"I'm sorry," Erik whispered in Charles ear, licking the shell as Charles shivered. Sorry? Maybe... He let himself hope... Maybe?, "for destroying your kitchen."

Charles died a little inside.


End file.
